Stripes
by oozorawesomeREIJI
Summary: TFA, humanized. Starscream gets a new hoodie. It's pretty sexy. Slash, lawl.


Yeah, after like.. a month of not doing anything, here's a fic.

A few notes here.

-I had way too much fun formatting this. XD

-It was written in bits and pieces. I hope it flows okay.

-It's dedicated to my friend. 3 You can _finally stop bothering me now_.

-There are lots of really weird mind games that the characters like to play in this fic.

Oh, btw, thanks to all the people who faved "Eloquence." Not bad for 1AM crack written by a dorky fanboy. :'D

Anyway, thanks for checking this out. Enjoy! How seriously you take this is up to you ;)

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_**Stripes**_

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**sexy****, **_**adj**_**. ****Sexually interesting or exciting; radiating sexuality:****e.g.**_**the **__**sexiest**__** person in the mall; Starscream is **__**sexy**_

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Starscream, _n_. (1) Twenty-five years old, arrogant, deliciously irrational – and in desperate need of a hoodie. A _stripy_ one.

A hundred and fifty bucks (or whatever, really) out of Megatron's pocket was _nothing_. He smirked, lips twitching up in that alluring manner that he was completely aware of. "I'll take _this_," Starscream said cheerily, slamming the credit card down in front of an awestruck clerk. He traced his lips with the tip of his tongue and flicked his hair, red eyes dancing wickedly.

"O-Okay," mumbled the boy at the register. He bit his lip nervously and hastily scanned it in. "A h-hundred and seventy forty-five. Could you sign here?" He slid the receipt across the counter and handed Starscream a pen. "Th-thanks. Did you want a bag with that?"

Starscream tried to decide which would attract more attention. "I'll wear it now," he grinned. He smiled temptingly, and leaned over the counter, his eyes searching. The cashier blanched, but Starscream's smile only grew wider. His mouth formed a mocking "o" in surprise; "What a small bulge. I expected something _more_."

'_Damn__ this, I seriously don't get paid enough_,' thought the boy, as he felt his face heat up. He glared down at his pants.

"Bye," sang Starscream, his new hoodie casually slung over his arm.

***

Bumblebee, _n_. A girl magnet with repelling force; i.e. a failure at picking up those chicks.

There was something particularly attention-grabbing about wearing _just_ a hoodie and sneakers. Just a hoodie, and absolutely nothing below. Ending about eight inches above his knees, the purple and magenta striped hoodie did its best to make Starscream as flashy as possible. He relished the attention, pinching bits of the fabric with a sultry smile on his face, and twirling the strings of the hoodie around his long fingers.

Currently fifteen year old Bumblebee and his best friend, Sari, were making their way through throngs of excited girls. "Dang it," muttered the boy to Sari, "I wish I could get girls' attention like that."

"Yeah, um, it's never going to happen," said Sari unfeelingly.

***

Optimus Prime, _n_. (1) The owner of a truck company; experiences withdrawal from lack of contact with trucks and tends to be more conniving (i.e. "**mean**") if [severely unhealthy] relationship with trucks is threatened.

The ears. The _ears_. Optimus Prime tried not to stare. There were two very good reasons for this, both carefully thought out – probably the products of _over_-thinking and, of course, general insidiousness. This _was_ very much so a characteristic of the famously cool, calm, and collected Optimus Prime. After all, beyond the well-meaning exterior, there was apt to be some malicious intent. Perhaps it had never really surfaced in the past, but it did exist.

The surface image that Optimus Prime had so carefully maintained was the image that _sold_. And he wasn't going to ruin any sense of self-respect he had for himself by goggling at a stranger. Even though this particular stranger was actually... sort of... maybe _hot_. Maybe. It wasn't a _fact_ yet.

And until it was a fact, there was a reputation to be upheld as a mature person who didn't ogle at half-naked (though arguably _incredibly attractive_) people in striped hoodies.

The second reason in Optimus' very thoughtfully laid out plans – when did they become plans? – regarding why he couldn't stare at Starscream was equally logical. There being a state known conventionally as "mindfuck," and Optimus being the sort to want to mess with people's heads (especially when he was away from his damn _trucks_, obviously – excuse me, Optimus would _never_ swear), it was sort of _clearly apparent_ as to what his intention was. He would "mess Starscream up;" he would play some kind of sick tactical-mind-warfare game to confuse the attention-seeking male. In refusing to give said attention-seeking male (ASM) the required dose of attention ("Yes, _look at me_, bitches."), he would perhaps become infuriated enough to seek out the offender.

And _would_ Optimus flirt.

***

**1 New Text Message from Bumblebee to Optimus**

hey op i need liek sum pr0n?1 can u get it 4 me tday dbag? :D :D

***

Starscream, _n_. (2) The epitome of **sexy**. Gratuitous amounts of the word "**sexy**" may be used for perfectly adequate descriptions regarding him.

In about five minutes, Starscream had attracted the attention of the entire mall. It wasn't as though he were a _celebrity_, but the mall-goers were weak enough to be easily entranced. Perhaps there was something quite gripping about seeing an attractive person walk around the mall? Of course, there was always his lack of clothing to consider, but that probably wasn't the _biggest_ reason. Maybe it was how his strawberry-designed bag perfectly complemented his outfit. He _was_ in rather an enviable state.

He cast his eyes around and smiled tantalizingly, radiating sex appeal with no apparent effort. Everything about Starscream was unbelievably _shiny_, and he constantly tossed his hair to increase the possibility of its _shimmering _in the mall lighting. He also had the walk down perfectly, deliberately swaying his hips in – not an _attempt_, really – an effortless display of sex personified.

But something was wrong. _Someone_ was playing hard to get. A frown crossed his face, and he glowered momentarily, eyebrows slanting down in loathing. He dragged his (very fashionable Vans) sneakers across the smooth granite tiling to produce an agonizing screeching noise, and determinedly marched over to that _one_ _person_ who refused to give him more than a single glance.

Starscream enjoyed sulking; it got him exactly what he wanted. If he pouted just enough, the object – or reaction – of desire slipped straight into his outstretched hands. It felt _good_ to have such utter control.

He could manipulate people with such ease.

***

Optimus Prime, _n._ (2) Generally a rather nice person.

Exactly what had pushed him onto the edge of being so malicious? The short answer would be that, as of today, Optimus Prime had not seen a truck for five hours, thirty-eight minutes, and seven seconds. As most fetishists would agree, this would be a _terrible_ calamity. And enduring such a catastrophe took its toll on Optimus, thus resulting in a more manipulative mindset. Logical? Very, painfully so.

The long answer would force Optimus to take the pains to explain his overly-eager-to-look-at-porn neighbour, Bumblebee. The kind, caring Optimus would think of Bumblebee as a misguided teenager (wholooked at _hentai_, anyway?). The Optimus in truck-withdrawal associated Bumblebee with the group of creepy losers huddled in the corner of the comic shop.

All Optimus really wanted to do was go back to work and see his trucks – or touch the teasing _pointed ears_ of that asset enhancing _hoodie _(which he was still trying to ignore). Mindfully, he averted his gaze from the ASM once more, and set to work looking for that manga.

The only reason he was even at the mall today was because Bumblebee had requested he buy him something here "'cause you're of _age_, right?" That text message had been rather clear in its... urgency. And, because he was oftentimes too nice for his own good, Optimus had taken it upon himself to purchase hentai.

So _despite_ the fact that Optimus found absolutely no need for hentai's existence – who needed that when you could have _real people_? – he still found himself here. Optimus hated himself sometimes. Yet, most things considered, he was almost _glad_ he'd come to the mall anyway.

He glanced through the glass doors of the store and saw, to his satisfaction, that the ASM was _most assuredly_ making his way closer. Which, Optimus thought, almost made up for his truck-less day. The operative word was "almost."

The aforementioned cluster of eager loser-boys was hunched in a corner. They were greedily drowning their eyes in the latest issue of CG porn (again, what was with the lack of... the _real thing_?). The group also managed to simultaneously stare at the approaching Starscream, whose disarming smile sent the boys into spasms of excited shuddering. "_Look at that_," a gangly boy whispered, eyes bulging.

***

Starscream, _n._ (3) Relatively good stalker to a professional level, albeit attention whoring may occasionally undermine this skill.

Almost methodically, Starscream fixed his gaze on Optimus, and sauntered into the comic shop. Immediately upon entering, he made a beeline for his target and arranged his facial features into a ridiculously charming smile. His teeth _shone_. "Hello," he breathed, fingers just barely tracing along the back of Optimus' shirt.

Optimus mustered a bored expression and turned around, trying to keep his eyes from roaming noticeably. "Did you want something?"

"Oh, nothing in _particular_," Starscream drawled, lifting his eyebrow suggestively, "just – _what_ is _that_?" He pointed affectedly at the volumes of hentai tucked under Optimus' arm as though they were personally offensive.

Deciding to be honest, Optimus spared Starscream an amused glance and opened his mouth to reply. "I'm picking these up for my neighbour. He's underage."

Starscream surveyed their surroundings, the distaste evident in his frown. "What was your name?" he asked suddenly.

"Optimus Prime," the taller man indulged him.

"Ah, _Optimus_," Starscream tried the name on his tongue. His fingers tapped impatiently on the strawberry handbag, and his cheery tone became suddenly snappish, like a whip. "I noticed that, of all the people here today, _you_ didn't provide me with the attention I _deserve_." He gestured to his hoodie. "Does this not... _appeal_? Do you, perhaps, prefer your pathetic _nonexistent people_ to _this_? _God_, what the fuck is your problem?" Starscream was able to switch from super-suave to pouty in mere moments.

"You're too _cute_," said Optimus, unable to resist patting Starscream on the head. Red eyes stared back at him challengingly, and Optimus reached out to tug on the hood's ears –

"Perhaps we should take this... _elsewhere_," hummed Starscream, effectively maneuvering his arm over to knock the pile of manga from Optimus' grasp.

***

Optimus Prime, _n_. (3) He just can't say no.

He was vaguely aware of Starscream pulling him by the hem of his shirt – he wasn't sure _where_ they were going, but the situation seemed as contrived as it was exhilarating.

The first kiss was definitely a sign. Optimus found himself pressed against a wall, and his lips were suddenly very occupied. He felt rather overwhelmed. But he was determined to keep his day's careful planning from going to waste. (After all, he still had to make up for the lack of truck contact.) Yet, regardless of rational thought, Optimus pulled away, on the pretense that he needed to catch his breath.

"Is something _wrong_?" inquired Starscream, who was openly smirking. "I know, I _am_ an extremely good kisser."

Starscream's now predatory smile acted as incentive for Optimus to hazard with, "I don't even know who you are." There was something invigorating about playing mind games with a stranger, especially under these circumstances. Or, maybe – just _maybe_ – he was uneasy in the face of such overpowering attractiveness. Optimus could be good at stalling.

"Inhibitions are a bitch." Starscream almost sounded sympathetic, but his voice was dangerously low. He took a step closer, smiling when Optimus was forced back against the wall. "So," he whispered, staring at Optimus intently.

"Fuuuuu – " began Optimus, bent on pulling a dramatic swearing-in-the-middle-of-making-out-because-I'm-_that-_cool sort of effect. Unfortunately, because he didn't normally swear, he couldn't choke the rest of the word out.

Starscream stared at him, one eyebrow raised condescendingly. _Are you going to finish?_ the almost _disdainful_ glance asked.

"Fuh – fuuu –"

The moment was gone.

...

"Oh, _God," muttered Optimus, _feeling his icy confidence melting away. Goodbye, mind games.

Starscream was enjoying Optimus' discomfort; his smile stretched wider, and a sadistic gleam came into his eyes. "You _could_ just stop playing hard to get." His voice was mesmerizing. "I know you liked it." A pause. "_Optimus_."

Seeing that playing safe was a rather stupid option, met with equally stupid results, Optimus decided to revisit the intoxicating dizzy feeling he'd just experienced. "Okay," he said, and Starscream smiled (_almost_ genuinely).

**The Short Story**

They made out. It was hawt.

Like a poorly set up deus ex machina, _Starscream's phone rang. _:O

Optimus Prime was _sad_. :(

***

Interruptions, _n_. (1) That one thing fanboys always get right. It seems as though they're specifically designed to irritate Starscream when he's in the middle of _making out in public_, but that could just be sheer speculation.

"_Shit_," Starscream managed to articulate, grinding his teeth together and viciously flipping his phone open. "Hello, _Megatron_. Oh, _currently_, I'm quite busy." He sighed theatrically and rummaged through his bag to pull out a piece of gum, which he popped into his mouth.

With a scowl that did absolutely nothing to mar his effortless good looks: "I'm in the mall. _Oh_ –" A sharp intake of breath. A minute of furious gum chewing. _Angst_, coupled with unwilling vulnerability: "_Damn_ it, I can't believe you let _Blitzwing _take my office." His fake sobbing was very convincing.

"So," remarked Optimus, leaning against an out-of-order Coke machine, "maybe I should go."

"It's my boss," hissed Starscream with a roll of his eyes. "_Fine_. I'm _coming_," he snapped into his phone. Finally Starscream turned to Optimus, a business card dangling in his fingers. "For future reference," he indicated, letting the card fall into Optimus' hand. "I'm a xenobiologist. Oh, and we have _ice cream_ in the staff room. Well, I have to go so I don't get _fired_." He clicked his tongue in irritation, and brushed some strands of hair from his face. "I'll see you later." And he was gone.

The only really weird thing, Optimus mused, was that Starscream had sounded so _sure_. "What the hell...."

***

Megatron, _n._ Starscream's boss. Requires answers, now.

"_Why_ did you do that?" Disgust, laced with – really? – some... sort of thing Starscream swore could have been respect. Or shock. Well, no. Megatron wouldn't be surprised _that_ easily. So maybe it was something along the lines of, "What the _hell_are you wearing?" Megatron's eyes flicked toward the hoodie pointedly.

Starscream merely shrugged, and smiled engagingly. He leaned forward so that Megatron could feel his – _minty fresh_ – breath on his face. "I did it..." he began, and clamped his mouth shut for the sake of further aggravating his boss. Lazily he propped his elbows onto the table.

Megatron gave him an expectant glare, and Starscream took it as his cue to use his very successful bedroom eyes. (At this point it was clear as to how Starscream managed to keep his job.)

His lips parted, and he dropped his voice to a low, sensual murmur. "For the _lulz_."

***

The moral of the story? Starscream is sexy. Or did you know that already?

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And that was the end, ROFL. Thanks for reading! Anyhow, I'm.. sort of in this weird "I'm depressed and I can't write" phase because I just went to a 'writing camp' and it _sucked so much_ that I lost my will to write. AHAHA. (I started this fic waaay before camp, btw. Just finished editing it now, though.) Teen angst times infinity. Yum. Any prompts you think I should try out? Lulz, thank you.


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